


you're the reason (i open my eyes)

by incendir



Series: alive [2]
Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incendir/pseuds/incendir
Summary: seungyoon has accepted it as a fact of life that every morning he will want to end song minho’s life.





	

Seungyoon has accepted it as a fact of life that every morning he will want to end Song Minho’s life.

Both of them are night-owls, whether because the nature of their job calls for it (Seungyoon) or whether they are at their most proliferative creatively in the hours between midnight and dawn (Minho), so morning alarms are just a necessity that they have to both face. There is no way getting around it because even if they both have to stay up late to do what needs to be done, they still can’t sleep the day away because there are _more_ things that need to be done that won’t wait until later in the day.

Neither of them are the type of people who can spring up before noon regardless of how little sleep they’ve had the night before so alarms are a necessity, that’s undeniable, but Seungyoon doesn’t see why that also means the alarms chosen make him want to wrap his hands around Minho’s windpipe and squeeze.

He doesn’t even understand why Minho’s alarms are the ones they use with how much they make Seungyoon want to cut his own ears off just to wake up in an even infinitesimally more pleasant way.

“Canon in D,” Seungyoon says around his toothbrush and the toothpaste foaming around his lips, “is _just_ as effective as whatever the fuck that was today - the four horsemen of the apocalypse partying in my ears.”

Minho rinses his mouth, and spits, washing his face down in one go, and when he straightens up, patting the water from his face with the edge of Seungyoon’s towel, his grin is amused. “That’ll put me back to sleep, though?”

“It’s not like the racket you play wakes up anyone in this apartment but me, so I mean,” Seungyoon counters dryly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a DJ?” Minho walks out of the bathroom with the towel still slung around his neck, just as Seungyoon needs to spit and rinse himself. Seungyoon takes the nearest non-fatal object (a roll of toilet paper) and chucks it at the back of the other man’s head, until Minho turns and throws the towel back at him.

Seungyoon finishes brushing his teeth and washing his face, following Minho out of the bathroom after hanging the towel - and he makes a note of how they really need to get some more because they always end up with only one left when laundry day rolls around. “Yeah, but I’d also really like to start my day without a heart attack.”

“Then maybe you should set the alarm,” Minho suggests, opening the fridge and assuming the pose of any bachelor in the morning considering his life choices for the day. “Why _don’t_ you ever set the alarm anyway?” he adds, his tone is teasing now through and through, and Seungyoon’s ears feel warm even as he snorts, setting up the coffee press.

They aren’t teenagers - they don’t fuck every night, but the nights they do, which, Seungyoon admits are more often than the nights they don’t, Seungyoon always falls asleep first. Without fail, even if he isn’t even that worn out from the day beforehand, he still will fall asleep at least before Minho even if not right away. He always feels intensely lethargic afterwards, regardless of who he’s with, but usually the thought of falling asleep sticky and unshowered keeps him awake at least long enough to do something about that before he does knock out.

So really, Seungyoon is starting to suspect at this point that Minho somehow knows this - somehow realizes that if he gets up first every time to wipe Seungyoon down while Seungyoon is still lying there, gasping and reeling, that once Seungyoon’s breathing evens back out and his heart rate slows, Minho will be the last one awake and thus - the winner of tomorrow’s alarms. Seungyoon has to hand it to him that this is a fairly dastardly plan, one containing a lot more wit than Seungyoon would have suspected someone as normally bumbling as Minho to have, but since that night Minho leaned against his booth and propositioned him, Minho’s always been full of surprises.

Precisely how smooth this plot is is only emphasized by the fact that even though this doesn’t happen every night because they don’t fuck every night, it happens often enough that, out of habit, Seungyoon has forgotten to set his own alarm as part of his nightly habit before Minho began staying regularly at Seungyoon’s apartment. On those rare nights that they don’t do anything in bed except sleep, even if Seungyoon does eventually remember that he should set an alarm that won’t wake up him with a migraine, he usually only remembers right as his eyes are closing - after Minho’s puffs of breath are already steady and even against the back of Seungyoon’s neck, arm warm and heavy over Seungyoon’s waist, and the call to drift off is too strong for Seungyoon to really fight back.

“Fine,” Seungyoon says, as the kettle flicks off. He pours the hot water into the press and closes it, glancing at the time on his phone briefly for when it’ll be ready. “New rule: pants don’t come off until I’ve set the alarm.”

Minho shrugs, taking out the last tapioca pudding cup after apparently deciding that’s all the breakfast he needs - which, is fair, considering Seungyoon won’t be having anything but the entire press’s worth of coffee. “Fine with me.”

“Cool,” Seungyoon checks the time on his phone and then settles back against the counter - three more minutes until his day officially starts because he has accepted that he’s incapable of being a real person until his veins are humming with their first dosage of caffeine. He watches Minho open the pudding cup, licking the lid and searching through the drawers for a spoon. Both of them are still in what they slept in - sweatpants (Seungyoon), and sweatpants and a dark t-shirt (Minho). He waits until Minho’s found a spoon, turning to lean back on the opposite counter and face Seungyoon.

Minho raises his eyebrows, taking his first mouthful of tapioca pudding. “Yeah?”

“Three more minutes ‘til my coffee’s done,” Seungyoon points at his phone, and blinks.

Minho blinks back for a moment, and then he steps forward, laughing, one hand holding his cup and spoon, and the other against the back of Seungyoon’s neck. Seungyoon braces himself with one hand on the counter and the other tugging Minho forward by the waistband of his sweatpants. “Three minutes,” Minho whispers against Seungyoon’s lips, “first one to catch his breath does the dishes.”

Seungyoon feels himself break into a broad smile right as Minho presses forward and kisses him.

 

* * *

 

The new rule ends up being absolutely useless because Seungyoon had forgotten that they were celebrating the bartender’s birthday at his club tonight. Everyone is pumped with more shots than advisable, Seungyoon in particular even though it isn’t even his own birthday, and he goes home and straddles Minho on the sofa and tells Minho to _shut_ _the fuck up, okay_ when Minho grins, hands on Seungyoon’s hips, and reminds him about their new rule.

Seungyoon wakes up the next morning as per usual to the noisy, shocking bass coming out of Minho’s phone, only this is a thousand times worse because he’s on the sofa, naked and pressed up against Minho beneath a heavy blanket in a much more limited amount of space than the bed would otherwise provide. To add to this, Seungyoon’s head already feels like there’s a bass pounding inside of it without the actual infuriating beat Minho’s phone is providing. The final nail in the coffin is the fact that Minho’s phone is in his jeans and Minho’s jeans are, for some reason, across the living room.

At least, when they’re in an actual bed, Seungyoon can just roll over or get up and walk around the bed to Minho’s nightstand and shut the alarm off. In this situation, Minho is literally on top of Seungyoon because there would’ve been no other way for both of them to fit on the sofa anyway and even then their legs are nearly dangling over the edge lengthwise. Seungyoon spends an entire two minutes suffering through the noise and _willing_ Minho to just wake up and turn it off before he can’t risk getting complaints from the neighbors any longer and shoves Minho off of himself, rolls as if he’s going under the wires of an obstacle course across the living room, digs into Minho’s discarded jeans, and swipes the alarm off.

Seungyoon’s head had stopped pounding in the three seconds it took for all of that James-Bond-level action to occur, but the moment he sits still, the pain returns and he presses the base of his palms over his eyes, groaning. When his head lets him know that he could maybe attempt to open his eyes now without dying, he blinks them carefully open, squinting at the bright sunlight streaming through the blinds and looks over towards the sofa again.

Unbelievably - or, believably, because Seungyoon has come to expect the ridiculous from Song Minho by now - Minho is still asleep. On the floor, now, granted, but asleep.

When Seungyoon had turned off the alarm, he also saw that Minho had set it at least two hours before either of them really needed to be awake - probably because Seungyoon had mentioned that today he’d been debating on getting the weekend’s errands done so that they could have the weekend free to go to after-parties after Minho’s events.

There’s no way Seungyoon is starting off so early with a hangover of this magnitude, though, so he drags himself back to their actual bed, slips under the covers, and gloriously passes out again.

 

* * *

 

The second time Seungyoon wakes up that morning, it isn’t to an alarm, and he isn’t sure it’s even morning anymore. he wakes up to the mattress sinking in slightly from a weight that sets down beside Seungyoon, and his eyes open blearily to Minho sitting on the edge of the bed, a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of aspirin balanced in his lap.

“Yo,” Minho says lightly, popping the bottle open and pouring a pill onto the cap.

Seungyoon sits up heavily, wincing because his head is slightly better but now it tastes like something died in his mouth and someone pulled jelly over his eyes. “Thanks,” he takes the aspirin gratefully, setting it on the back of his tongue and washing it down with the water Minho holds out.

“So - about that rule,” Minho starts, amusement in his tone, and Seungyoon shoots him a flat look over the glass. Minho shifts slightly, pulling his phone from his sweatshirt pocket and padding in the passcode. He sets it in Seungyoon’s lap on top of the covers and opens up the alarm.

Seungyoon stares down at it for a moment, and then grins over at Minho. “Call it tit for tat,” Minho rolls his eyes, smiling back. “You never give me shit about having to wake me up, so I guess I won’t torture you anymore for never remembering to set the alarms - which - normal people do right after they wake up from the previous alarm, by the way.”

“Oh - is _that_ how they do it?” Seungyoon asks sarcastically, only to end up laughing when Minho puts him into a chokehold before shoving him away across the bed.

“I also realized you shoved me off the sofa and I was still passed the fuck out,” Minho adds, “so it’s your alarm, really, not mine. I’m just your alarm-setting-slave. If you want to wake up to elevator music, I guess it’s your call.”

Seungyoon sighs contentedly, patting Minho’s thigh. “You’re so useful,” he nods.

The light in Minho’s eyes starts to dance then, and Seungyoon recognizes the look that the other always wears when he’s about to turn the tables and be the one on the teasing end again. After all, it’s never still between them - there’ll always be a push and pull, and Seungyoon wants it like that. He doesn’t think he’s ever been with someone so dynamic that even when they’re both exhausted, there’s energy between the two of them.

“Yeah, I gathered that last night,” Minho says, and his mouth is only smiling but his eyes are smirking.

Seungyoon has to pause in his thoughts for a moment, rewinding through the ordeal that was this morning and then the drunken haze from last night, and -

“ _Fuck - Song Minho - fuck, fuck me_ \- “ Minho’s imitation of Seungyoon’s voice is shit at best but that doesn’t mean Seungyoon doesn’t take a pillow and slam it over Minho’s face hard enough to send the other man off the bed.


End file.
